Last Straw
by PBCiMoA
Summary: Prompt: Blaine is being bullied by the hockey team but doesn't tell anyone until one day he snaps, epic bitch slap of a rant happens. (rating for language)
1. Chapter 1

Not Mine

* * *

Blaine groaned, letting the lukewarm water of the McKinley showers beat down on the stiff muscles in his back, momentarily allowing himself to forget it was still morning and he only had minutes to get himself dry and presentable before classes started. He groaned as he heard chuckles from the locker room, hoping whatever jocks were coming in from a morning practice would miss his boxing gear in the corner and allow him to sneak out and make it to his AP Literature class unhindered.

He wrapped a towel around his waist and made his way over to his locker, his hopes being dashed as he spotted the door hanging open and wondering what state his clothes would be in, cursing himself for keeping his spare outfit in his gym locker rather than his hall locker. Approaching the locker he found nothing. It was entirely empty, right down to his roll of tape. He heard more sniggers, probably from the hockey players as they were leaving, and bit back another groan, slamming his fist into the locker next to his own.

It wasn't the first time the hockey team had pulled increasingly immature pranks on him. 'Rick the Stick' had left the school but his narrow minded views lived on in his mindless minions. Most of the school had actually lain off the glee club following their victory at nationals, and even when their tenuous grasp on popularity had failed early on in the year the majority of the student body had opted for ignoring their existence rather than actively bullying them. The hockey team, however, was apparently still very offended by his 'pretending to be a real boy', and was taking every opportunity to keep him out of 'their' athletics facilities.

He had ignored it for the most part, reminding himself he'd endured much worse than childish pranks, name calling and the occasional locker check, not willing to stir the pot as they seemed to have more or less given up on the rest of the glee club and with all the activities he was involved in he was rarely alone long enough for anything to happen. Discovering not only his clothes, but his book bag and toiletries (including gel) gone seemed to be the figurative straw that broke his overburdened camel's back.

He spun on his heel in a move he internally noted that Rachel Berry would be proud of and stomped toward the door, not willing to let himself be trapped in any room by a group of teenage boys with underdeveloped brains.

His shoulders were squared and his stride was confident as he made his way through the halls. Blaine's head was so far into thoughts of exactly what needed to be done he was completely unaware of the incredulous stares that followed his path to Figgins' office. He planted his feet squarely in front of the desk belonging to Figgins' secretary and cleared his throat.

"I'd like to report a theft, please." He forced his voice into a polite tone and waited for the woman to acknowledge his words, or at least his presence.

"The form to report a misdemeanor is the pink one in the folder behind you, fill it out and the school will file it and an investigation will be held, what seems to have been misplaced?" Her tone was bored and her eyes didn't leave the screen in front of her.

Blaine stared in disbelief at her, raising an eyebrow. "My chemistry textbook." He snapped, dryly. "My clothes are gone, I want them back." The woman finally looked up and her jaw dropped slightly at the teen, still dripping slightly onto the grey carpet, wrapped in a white towel in front of her. "And I won't be filing for a misdemeanor; I'd like to file it as a felony, considering the value of the objects stolen is well over the 1000 dollar limit of Ohio law." The woman continued to gape at him, pointing silently toward another binder, full of blue forms. He grabbed one and stormed out, intending to find Sam, hoping he would have a change of clothes in his locker still.

His plans were interrupted by the appearance of the hockey goons at the end of the hallway, prompting his vision to go red and changing his course until he was facing five overlarge boys with mullets. "Why the fuck can you people not just let me shower in peace?"

The shock melted off their faces after a few seconds and their leader (Josh or John or Jack something or other) stepped forward. "No one wants shower with a fag."

"I was the only one showering!" He snapped. He couldn't understand why they couldn't just leave it alone. "Ok you know what, that is it. I have put up with your nonsense for over a year. The fact that you are so willfully ignorant about sexuality just isn't cute anymore. I am there because I actually want to get out of this backwater town at some point and having two years without any kind of athletics looks bad on my transcripts. The fact that you don't want me in 'your' facility is frankly laughable because let's get real, none of you are exactly winners. I on the other hand captained a national title winning lacrosse team every year from sixth grade up to sophomore year, in spite of a midyear transfer, not to mention my track record with polo, fencing, and boxing. I could run circles around all of you with your, well, what can only be described as sub-par hand-eye coordination. If you don't think this is enough to warrant dealing with me changing in the same room as you I can assure you I have no interest in seeing any of you sans clothes, and here is why, starting with the reasons you all have in common:"

Everyone was now staring at him with slack jaws but he found himself unable to stop his rant. "You're clearly all brawn, no brain, which, I just can't tell you how much of a turn off that is. You're straight, and I have no problems finding guys who are more than willing, and with better coordination." He knew the smirk and the sneer probably made him look like he was channeling Sebastian Smythe, but he was beyond caring.

"You dress appallingly and your hair is if not awful, at the very least incredibly boring and don't get me started on your skin. None of you have any real concept of personal hygiene, to the point I was fairly surprised to find you shower at all, never mind in front of me." And don't even get him started on the practice of spraying on deodorant in place of taking an actual shower.

"As if all of these things weren't enough, you each have traits so genuinely disturbing I find it hard to believe you can live with them yourselves. You for example Heyes;" He pointed at one of the burlier captain hopefuls.

"You seem to be laboring under the delusion that you are some kind of ladies' man when the quite honestly massive difference in the size of your arms implies otherwise. I actually talk to girls, they have noticed. Now do you all need me to go on, because I can, or shall we all agree to act like adults and hand over my clothes so I can change? Trust me, if the rules permitted it I would be changing with the half of the school who has grasped the concept of soap."

He drew a deep breath, about to continue, when a hand landed on his shoulder. He spun around to come face to face with Sam who was inexplicably holding five phones in one hand. "Dude, you're naked." It was just above a whisper, but the crowd around them, which was slowly appearing at the edges of Blaine's tunnel vision, was deathly silent. "And your towel is like two seconds from dropping." There was a distinctly female groan from his left and his peripheral vision revealed the nice blonde cheerio from the Trouble Tones glaring at Sam.

Reality settling in finally, he schooled his face into a carefully neutral expression, not about to let his abject mortification show, and held out his hand to the hockey players expectantly. They dumped his things out of one of the lockers behind them and he bent to pick them up. "There will be felony charges pressed, good luck getting scholarships." He smiled beatifically up at them and turned, making his way back through the crowd, head still held high.


	2. Chapter 2

(A/N:)

Snap was intended to be a oneshot, but because there was interest and because I am easily bribed with coffee here is the aftermath of Blaine's little melt down.

* * *

The rest of the day is mildly surreal. Most days people just ignore Blaine. Everyone knows who he is, but outside of his clubs (numerous though they are), no one really notices him. Occasionally he will be stopped in the halls, on a good day it's for student council, on a bad day it's a locker check, but for the seven hours following his outburst there are eyes on him constantly. He steadfastly ignores the looks, the whispers and the giggling behind hands, even the high fives. He doesn't want to brave the cafeteria for lunch, and he's hesitant to take advantage of the empty locker room again so he settles for hiding out in the auditorium, with the piano. Blaine steels himself before entering the choir room at the end of the day, knowing that glee is the one part of his day where stoic silence isn't going to cut it.

Sam slings an arm around his shoulders as they both approach the door at the same time and gives them a light squeeze. "Dude, I tried to grab them, but you know, everyone has a phone and you were kind of naked and pissed in the hall."

"Thank you?" He's not sure he actually wants to know how exactly Sam has helped him by stealing people's phones.

Tina glances at him and frowns lightly. "You haven't seen it yet have you?" He's almost certain he doesn't want to know, but forewarned is forearmed after all.

"No?" Tina hands him her phone, tapping the screen to start the video from what Blaine recognizes to be Jacob Ben Israel's blog. Whoever filmed it must have noticed him soon after he left the locker room because the video follows him to the principal's office. The sound is too muffled to make out what he's saying but his face speaks clearly enough and once he slams the glass door open again, carrying his sheet of powder blue paper the camera follows him again. He wants to be surprised he didn't notice someone trailing him through the halls, but in the state of mind he was in at the time, Jacob could have walked next to him waving his mic in Blaine's face and gotten no reaction at all.

There is a sudden cut in the video when Sam approaches and apparently tries to grab the camera (presumably he fails considering where the video ended up) and the point of view switches to someone who must have been standing off to the left of the Hockey players because they have an almost full view of his face and this time there is no glass wall separating the mic from his rant. Blaine pinches the bridge of his nose as he watches himself attack the personal grooming habits of his classmates. The crowd around him is perfectly silent, apparently in shock, but not shocked enough to forget their camera phones. Even with Sam and Tina in the background, snatching phones, Blaine is sure someone could manage to collect a fairly detailed 3d model of him considering he was apparently being filmed from every angle. He's never been as thankful for Sam as when the blonde steps up behind him and mutters something the camera doesn't catch.

He suddenly notices someone behind Sam and himself, holding a phone aloft like everyone else. "Sugar!" The girl looks up from her phone unapologetically.

"What? I had a good view."

Tina chooses that moment to chip in. "For the record, I hadn't noticed, because he's a douche, but Heyes' arms really are suspiciously uneven." There is a series of nods and Blaine drops onto the piano bench, letting his head fall into his hands.

"Well, today was...interesting."

"I'm sorry Mr. Schue. I reacted rashly and rose to the bait and I'm not proud of that." Blaine is fairly surprised this is the first time he's hearing from a teacher, at Dalton there would have been a full inquest within minutes. Blaine would have probably gotten away with detention if he could prove that his dress code violation was forced and that no punches had been thrown, but the responsible hockey players would have been summarily expelled by noon. He shouldn't be surprised of course; not with the way Kurt's problems were treated and there is a reason Blaine hasn't contacted any member of staff about the bullying.

Jake claps a hand on his shoulder, his other hand flicking through comments on a YouTube page, which Blaine can only assume contains yet another video of his tantrum, on his phone. "That's ok dude, we're proud for you and I wasn't even there."

"No, Blaine is right. We should rise above these situations; however, you did react with words and not violence which is commendable." Commendable isn't the word Blaine would have chosen, but he really doesn't want to be in trouble on top of everything else that's already going on so he isn't going to argue.

Sam drags him over to the risers and into a chair. "Honestly dude, I think this is the first time I've seen you too angry to sing about it, I'm surprised you didn't box it out."

"That's why I was in the locker room in the first place, also I was not about to start wailing on the heavy bag with no gloves or tape...or clothes."

"Hey, you just hit twenty thousand views on YouTube, and that's just Ben Israel's upload."

"Oh my God."

Tina wraps him into a comforting hug and he buries his burning face in her hair. "Look on the bright side; you have twenty thousand witnesses to the theft you were going to report."

"Tay-Tay, you always know what to say."

"Try searching 'Naked Angry Cheerleader', someone really liked your shoulders." Sugar and Jake were both entirely too amused by the situation.

"This is not funny."

"It's a bit funny."

"Lip-readers have been at it, you've gotta love the internet. Are your clothes seriously worth over a thousand dollars?" Jake was still scrolling through comments, snorting every few seconds.

"They also took my bag with my watch, phone and laptop, but yes actually, I'd say roughly 1200."

Jake actually looked up from his phone at that. "Holy shit, that's more than our rent."

"Does that mean you'll stop complaining when I try to pay for food?" Blaine and Sugar had both been met with insistent refusals when they tried to treat their friends to meals (Sugar less than Blaine because 'her dad owns everything').

"How do you not get mugged like every day?"

The thought honestly hadn't crossed his mind. Blaine sets his bag down (or throws it to the side) all over school and he's never really considered that it wouldn't be there when he got back, another remnant of his time at Dalton most likely. "Lots of people wear expensive clothes. Sugar's shoes are probably worth two thousand."

"They are, I got them yesterday, you like?"

"They are fabulous." They are fabulous, garish, but very Sugar.

"Sam, what are you wearing?" Tina's eyes fixed on Sam's breast pocket.

Sam shrugged, looking down. "...Jeans?"

"No, the button."

"Oh yeah, they were passing them out, I have third lunch." It's a laminated button, probably made by the yearbook people, with a picture of Blaine, arms spread and teeth bared, and the caption 'Don't fuck with the prez'.

"I am never going to live this down."

"If you think those are bad, wait until you see what they did to your ambition board or whatever you called it." The initiative board is the notice board Blaine has appropriated for the purpose of spreading the word about the anti-bullying, anti-racism, political awareness and social activism groups he has been working to get off the ground since his election.

"What did they do?"

"Don't worry; I think it's a compliment...probably."

Someone has printed a massive image of Blaine, frozen at a point where it kind of looks like he's motioning downward to the message board, and bold black letters proclaim 'Mr. President says...' and under the board in the same large font 'or he will cut you'.

"I'm perpetuating aggressive behavior."

"I really don't think it's that bad Blainey-Days, most people just seem to think you're a secret bad-ass. I'm pretty sure you can spin this to work for you. I'll come over after school and we can watch bootlegs of bad off-Broadway musicals and eat mocha ice cream and brainstorm how this is going to help you get your anti-bullying policies enacted."

"Ok. What are the odds I'm going to be able to go a day without seeing a picture of myself half naked before graduation?"

"Next to zero."

"Do you think Cooper is going to find out?"

"Definitely."

"Kurt?"

"Already seen it. You should probably check your Facebook."

"Oh my god people at NYADA will have seen this."

"Aw B, at least you looked good."


End file.
